


Sometimes Breathin' Ain't Enough

by soncnica



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood, Bondage, Branding, Breathplay, Bruises, Burns, Childhood Memories, Choking, Claiming, Crazy Boys, Dark Jared, Dark Jensen, Drowning but being saved, Explicit Language, Gunplay, Handcuffs, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Past Physical Abuse (not to a main character), Kissing, M/M, Marking, Mild Painplay, Minor Character Death, Murder Kink, Murderers, Near Death Experiences, No Main Character Death, Powerplay, Rough Sex, Serial Killers, Trust, Trust Kink, dark characters, graphic description of a dead body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soncnica/pseuds/soncnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all about memories and trust. All about how one event shapes you into who you are. With them? It just shaped them a bit … crooked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Breathin' Ain't Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know... I just wanted to write a story and then this, this thing happened, I just don't know. Omg. Just please read the warnings, THIS IS A DARK, DARK STORY, if that's not your thing, don't read, please and thank you.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and I'm sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes you might find.

"How fast is your heart beating, huh?"

Oh, his heart was beating pretty damn fast; he could feel the _thudthudthud_ in his throat, belly and his right temple. It would've flied right out of his chest if the muzzle of the gun wouldn't have been pressed right at the spot where his heart was trying to splat itself at his ribcage.

He smiled, his usually pearl white teeth now covered with his blood - red between his teeth. When Jensen hit, he hit hard and he would have one spectacular bruise come tomorrow. He couldn't wait. Jensen sucking on it would hurt so deliciously.

"You ain't gonna shoot me."

"You sure 'bout that?"

He licked his teeth and breathed out: "Yeah, very sure."

He crossed his eyes when Jensen leaned forward, so close to his face, he could've counted all the freckles on the man's cheeks and nose, given enough time.

"Why?"

He smiled again, chuckled really, and whispered right at Jensen's lips: "Because you want me to suck your cock."

Their eyes were inches apart, mouths even less and the gun was a hot pressure on his chest, right over his fluttering heart.

He knew Jensen's finger was on the trigger, just one little twitch of the man's finger and BOOM, all of this would be over in a blink of an eye.

-:-

Jensen shuddered. Oh yeah, he wanted that, wanted to choke himself on Jared's cock, like he sometimes does, just stuffs his throat as much as he can of Jared's dick and chokes on it, makes himself dirty with tears and spit and snot until he passes right out and wakes up ass full of Jared's cock. He wanted that right now so much, but he wanted something else much more.

He smirked: "You're pretty sure of yourself, huh, you son of a bitch?" and moved the gun up to Jared's temple.

Jared shrugged: "I can see it in your eyes. You want me, but man, you can't have me, not with my brain splattered all over the walls."

"Hmmm, true, but I can still shoot you in the leg."

He moved the gun to Jared's thigh, pressing down into hard flesh.

Jared hissed through tightly clenched teeth; the press of the gun a bit too much, but still so fuckin' good, he could feel his dick get harder.

"No, you won't shoot me there."

"Why not, you cocky asshole?"

"Because you want this ass hole."

 

Jensen's upper lip twitched.

"Ooooh, no wait, that ain't it. You ... you want me to fuck you."

He breathed the words into Jensen's parted lips.

"Fucker!"

The gun went off.

A loud noise surprised the big hall of the warehouse they holed themselves in for the night. The light flickered where it was hanging above Jared, the chair he was tied on rocked back and forth, and the concrete of the wall behind his back flew in every direction, when the bullet made a huge hole in the centre of it. Some of it landed in his hair, and he shook his head, letting the fragments fly all around and out of his hair.

Jared chuckled: "Did I make you trigger happy there, huh?"

"You really are one cocky son of a bitch, aren't ya?"

"Yeah," he lowered his voice, "but you still want me."

The noise from the gun going off was still resonating in his ears, but he liked that, liked the feeling of it rattling in his bones. It made his blood sing and the rush he felt when Jensen pressed the hot muzzle back against his thigh, made him hiss in pain and pleasure. He could see it was exactly the same for Jensen, because the man's eyes darkened, the light green in them flickering dark now. Lust and want and _moremoremore_ swirling in them.

"Never said, I didn't." Jensen whispered into his ear, trying to chase away the sound of the gun with his own voice. He pressed the gun harder into Jared's thigh, branding the skin through the thin jeans, wanting to bruise, wanting to make a mark on the squirming man. A mark for him to lick and push at, a mark for him to kiss and bruise even more later. Later when they'd be driving up to St. Louis and the road would be empty enough for him to push his fingers into the mark and hear Jared make noises that always make him hard in point one second.

-:-

Jared hissed and groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back, exposing the long line of his neck. It felt so damn good, to be marked like that. To belong like that. To belong to Jensen like that.

Fuck.

And when Jensen's wet tongue licked a stripe up his throat, hot lips closing on his Adam's apple... he buckled up his hips, dick hard and leaking in his jeans, needing something more.

Jensen's tongue was talented in every single way, just as were his hands and fingers. Hell, the guy's whole body was sin and the way he held a gun or a knife ... fuuuuck.

He shuddered.

"How you wanna do this? Come on, Jens... gah fuck, damn do that again." he groaned through his abused throat, never wanting for Jensen to stop sucking on his neck, but his dick was demanding attention, right the fuck now, or he'd come into his pants like a kid he once was. They both once were.

The smell of the gun was making his head spin, the click of the gun put on safety and with Jensen licking his way up and down his neck, it was all just too good.

He had to ... he head butted Jensen. He regretted it a second later when the ringing in his head went wild, but … he needed to do something and words wouldn't have cut it, because he knew Jensen and when the man got something in his head, it was hard to pull him out of it.

"Fuuucker!"

He watched as Jensen stumbled a few steps backwards, hand raised up to his forehead, rubbing the hurt away.

"What the hell, man?"

"I asked how you wanna do this, because I'm a bit tied up here."

He rattled the cuffs that were holding him by his wrists, hands behind his back.

Jensen didn't say anything, just smirked and dropped the gun to the floor. It was the smirk that gave him away, the pain of being head butted forgotten.

"Ooooh, you wanna ride me?"

"Shut your fucking mouth."

Jensen like this was simply sinful. Strong, confident, smirking, sure of his every move, muscles working in his shoulders and legs when he climbed onto his lap, his broad back in movement, his chest moving in the rhythm of harsh breathing.

Jensen's lips were hard on his, tongue seeking a tiny opportunity to slip inside... and yeah this was good.

This was really good.

They both groaned when their hard cocks finally touched through their jeans, Jared almost stopped breathing when Jensen rubbed his ass over the burn the gun made in his thigh.

It was delicious.

"You asshole, you fucking asshole."

Jensen was whispering in between kisses, hot, sweet, delicious breath mingling with his own.

"You love me."

"Fuck if I know why."

He chuckled into Jensen's mouth and chased the man's taste with his tongue when Jensen stopped the kiss and leaned back.

"Unlock the cuffs, Jensen."

Jensen was handy with everything; rope, cuffs, knife, keys, guns, you name it, he could handle it with an expertise many would envy and he had the cuffs unlocked in seconds, not even having to move from Jared's lap. The roll of his hips, the grind of his hard cock onto Jared's, when he was unlocking the cuffs, the smell of him in Jared's nose, the feel of the solid mass of the guy on him, was really, really making him near the edge where he'd come in his pants.

"Nnnngh, fuck, man shit, stop."

"You like it..."

"Not if I'll come in my shorts, man."

Jensen laughed and dropped the cuffs on the cold, concrete floor, behind Jared's back.

His hands were free now, he could do whatever he wanted with them now, move them all over Jensen, touch every part of the man, pull and push, yet he didn't move them. He wanted to give this to Jensen, let this night be his for the taking. He trusted his friend; trusted him to show him what he wanted and when he wanted it. And right now...

"You gonna ride me?"

"I ... can't, he's watching me."

Jared glanced to where Jensen was looking, and grinned.

"He's dead, can't see ya."

The kid was dead. Dead eyes, dead muscles, dead heart, dead fingers. He was tied to a similar chair Jared had been a few minutes ago, the kid's dead head lolled to his dead right shoulder.

"Hey man, he's dead. It was your kill."

"Yeah, yeah, it was."

"Sure was."

He had been so proud of Jensen, watching him deal with the kid. He left the floor to Jensen, just stood leaned on the wall; arms crossed at his chest, just observing his friend make the kid scream. So proud.

"He was a screamer."

"Hahaha, weren't they all?"

Jensen was still looking at the kid. Blond hair matted with blood, face covered in streaks of sweat, tears, dried drool and blood.

"Hey, look at me dude."

Jensen couldn't tear his eyes away from the kid. He was still beautiful, hell he was more beautiful now in death, covered with bodily fluids and a huge hole where his heart used to be, as he was when he was still alive and screaming.

"Jensen!"

He pushed himself off the chair in a flash, gripping Jensen by his throat - couldn't stand him looking at the kid with eyes dark like that because, that darkness was reserved for him and only him - and pushing him backwards until Jensen's back hit the wall with a thud that made the man groan.

He squeezed Jensen between the wall and himself with his right hand gripping Jensen's throat and his left firmly pressed to the man's chest.

He tightened the fingers around Jensen's throat, choking him, and that got that darkness focused on him again. His cock twitched and more precome dripped out of the slit, he could feel it, but for anything to happen he needed Jensen back with him. They wouldn't fuck, if Jensen wasn't present. It was a pact they made a long time ago.

"Jensen, remember the day we met? Huh? Remember that?" he breathed into Jensen's face and leaned his forehead to Jensen's.

"You remember?"

He could feel in the way every muscle in Jensen's body relaxed and surrendered, that he was remembering.

-:-

He was walking down a dirt road, kicking pebbles with his blue and white sneakers that had a hole beneath his left heel and were used and dirty ... just the way he liked them, plus the fact that his parents couldn't afford to buy new ones.

His parents were fighting again and he just knew that when he'd get back home later, he would find his father bottom deep in a bottle in the garage and his mother curled up in bed crying. There would be no bruises to be found on her face, because his father knew better than that. No. The face was reserved for red rimmed eyes and bitten through lips.

He kicked another small pebble and watched it fly into the grass that lined the road.

He lived in a no name town, nothing in town to put it on any kind of a map. There was one road, the main one going straight from north to south, lined by buildings that held the essentials: a small store, a doctor's and a lawyer's office, town hall, police station and a diner.

The main road was an asphalted vein, while every other road was made of dirt, which was appropriate he thought, because the town really was just a dirt speck in the great US of A.

There was a railroad going parallel to the road he was on, but the town didn't have a train station, no way for anyone to escape town without a car.

It was the summer of '68 and he entertained a crazy idea of how life would be in the 70's, 80's and 90' and if he would live to see the year 2000. That would be sooo cool.

"Hey Jensen, you wanna go for a swim?"

The voice belonged to Barney, a small, scrawny, black-haired, bones and skin kid, who in his twelve years of life had seen his daddy go crazy on his mom, beat her bloody and dead with a tire iron. Barney didn't cry at her funeral, because his daddy told him that if he would, he would beat him too. Post something stress something Barney said his daddy was diagnosed with and Jensen figured that maybe his own father was suffering the same.

"At the lake?"

'The lake' was actually just some kinda pond, more of a muddy puddle really, but the water was okay, cold enough for the hot day, and they only found leeches there twice. So, it was okay.

"Yeah, the lake. Louis and that skinny kid are already there. Wanna come?"

"What skinny kid?"

Louis he knew, the guy had a mouth on him like someone forgot to install an off switch. He talked all the fucking time, about anything and everything, he was like a running commentary for every single shit that happened. He hated the guy on principle. But the skinny kid? Who was that?

"Yeah, the one who just moved into town. Erm, dunno his name, but ya know, he moved to old McPearsons house. Busty told me, that the kid shot his brother. Oh man, oh man how screwed up is that, huh? Busty said that his sister is in the same class as the kid's brother and he is like limping and shit and and and he shot him in the leg. Kid does seem a bit psycho to me, sure hope he ain't gonna go all crazy on us."

Yeah, because everything Busty says was always true, but he ain't gonna tell that to Barney, won't shatter the pedestal the kid had Busty on.

"Oh," he shrugged, "okay, yeah sure."

It's not like he had anything else to do. He won't go home yet, can't see his dad drowning in liquor and his mother sucking up snot and tears in bed, and there was nothing else to do in the shithole, so ... why not?

'The lake' was gleaming in the sun, the tall tress around it dipping their branches in the water. There was screaming and splashing heard even before they arrived to the water and when they did, there were at least three bodies in the water, cooling off and swimming and dunking each other.

The water was deep, especially in the center, so they hung out more by the 'beach', because their parents would skin them alive if anything would happen to them.

He toed off his shoes, took off his pants and the red T-shirt that had seen better days, and dropped them in a pile on the leafy 'beach' and ran into the water. It was cold on his sun hot skin and he nearly blacked out when he fully submerged himself in it, but he was used to it. This wasn't the first swim he took in this pond and won't be the last.

He wanted to swim and not be splashed on or dunked under water or whatever the others were doing. They noticed him and Barney when they got there, gave them both a shout but ... he just wanted a swim, to cool off and then just lay on the 'beach' and do nothing. Think of nothing.

"Hey Jensen, where you goin'?"

Louis. Even the kid's voice was annoying and it was, close.

He turned around and only saw a flash of Louis' blond hair and blue eyes and then he found himself under water, his legs folding awkwardly at the bottom, his knees scraped on the rocks and he couldn't breathe. There was a hand on the top of his head and another at his right shoulder pushing him down and he couldn't breathe. He scrambled for something with his hands, something to hold on to, while his ass was moving back and forth against the rocky bottom, rising up mud and various other debris from the ground. He couldn't see anything; it was all murky, even the sun had gone away. He took a breath. Of water and mud and dead leaves and his lungs stung and his stomach rolled and he couldn't breathe.

He was drowning to the sound of The Platters' _Smoke gets in your eyes_ coming from someone's small battery radio and he couldn't believe that he would die like this. In this fucking pond. He wished he'd be dying to a happier tune. He hit something with his arm, but couldn't see what, and he was drowning, his lungs filling with water, because everything inside of him burned for air. He was drowning. And it felt so good. So nice, all the air rushing out of him, leaving behind the burning need for it, his lungs trying to expand and screaming for air that just wouldn't come. It felt good in a strange way, it felt like it was okay now to let go.

And then arms thin as twigs, grabbed him around his chest, pressed on him, pushing the last of air out of him and lifted him up. Out of the murkiness and into the light. It was all so peaceful. Soundless. Still. Calm. The water gentle on his body, just taking him away into nothingness. Into the soothing darkness.

And then there was bright sun in his eyes and a face with wet, floppy brown hair in the eyes looming over him. There were drops of water falling from that dark hair directly on his cheeks and lips. But all he could feel was a hand on his heaving chest and a pressure there, like nothin' he had ever felt. He wanted more of it. Needed it. Wanted for that hand to push down and make him choke again. Take him back to that peace, stillness, silence. Back there where everything was so gentle.

"Can ya breathe?"

Were the first words the shadow above him said and he coughed, blinked and rasped: "Get off me."

It was the beginning of a crazy, fucked up three ways to Sunday friendship that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He did tell Barney though, a few years later, that Jared? Ain't really all that more psycho than Jensen is.

-:-

"I remember."

Jared was his; that skinny, floppy haired, twig armed eight year old kid that was now a grown man with broad shoulders and arms strong as a machine ... was his even after sixteen years. And Jensen was his.

And there it was again. The same hand on his chest, just bigger now, fingers splayed wider, stronger, it was pushing him to the wall while the other hand was squeezing his throat.

Dark spots were already beginning to dance before his eyes, swirling all around Jared's face. He nodded against the pressure on his throat: "I remember."

Jared smiled, lips tugging up to his ears: "Good."

Before he could say anything else, do anything else but look into his friend's dark green eyes, Jensen growled and pushed himself off the wall, making them both stumble and almost free fall to the hard, cold ground.

Jensen's back collided with the concrete so hard his breath came out of him in a rush and when Jared's heavy body crashed onto him, he couldn't breathe. He closed his eyes and waited for that peace to come take him, and he knew that it would feel so good when he'd wake up, but Jared's: "You love it like this, dontcha? Like my weight on ya, love being breathless, dontcha?" pulled him from the edge of unconsciousness. He opened his eyes, licked his lips and pulled Jared's head down to suck those stupid words out of his friend's mouth. Of course he fucking loved it when Jared made him stop breathing, loved that solid body pressing all the air out of him, taking him back to that sensation of calming stillness. He knew that Jared would always, always make him breathe again.

-:-

The blond kid on their left was still dead; when they fumbled with the zippers on their jeans, the buttons, the fabric.

The hole in his chest still gaping; when their fingers tugged on their hot, hard cocks for the first time, making them groan so loudly, the sound got stuck in the room for a few seconds.

His head still lolled to his shoulder; when Jared put his hand, fingers dirty with spit, precome, blood, some lotion and smelling of Jensen, around his friend's throat.

His face still covered in dried blood and tears; when he pressed his palm down on Jensen's throat, feeling the bones shift and grind in there. He grinned and pushed his cock into the tight, tight heat of his friend's hole.

He knew exactly when to push deeper, push more, stop, push, stop, squeeze his fingers around Jensen's throat. He knew exactly when to move, how to move to hit that perfect spot that made Jensen push his neck closer to his palm and gasp. He knew when to squeeze and release, squeeze and release, when to go slow and when to go fast. It was a struggle to fuck Jensen like this, because he only had one arm for support, not much leverage to really go at it, but fuck, if the look in Jensen's eyes wasn't worth it.

The darkness in those wide open eyes, the parted lips, the short gasps and tears leaking from the corners of the eyes, the flushed and sweaty face inches from him, freckles standing out so prettily. There was no panic anywhere, no arms flailing and trying to push him off, no legs scrambling for purchase trying to knock him off; on the contrary, they were wrapped around his waist, trying to push him deeper.

There was just the sound of his harsh breathing in the big warehouse hall, Jensen's breaths were more like cut off wheezing; air barely sneaking past the constriction. And when Jensen pushed a few fingers in the burn mark the gun left on his thigh... he couldn't not come so deep, so hard, so fast, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

He knew that his hand tightened around Jensen's throat, cutting off the airflow, he knew that it must have felt so good for Jensen when he came like that, with one leg in unconsciousness and the other still on this world. He dug his wet fingers deeper into the side of Jensen's neck, feeling the man's heart flutter underneath his sticky fingertips. He was coming down from his high when he looked at Jensen's freckled face, eyes tightly shut, mouth open, lips bitten to the point of blood, sweat running down his temples. He saw a drop fall on his friend's nose and slide down his cheek... he leaned down and licked it off, kissed those spit and blood slicked lips and let go of Jensen's neck to grip the man by his hair. In his head he already saw the beautiful bruise Jensen would wear around his neck tomorrow; a collar made by his fingers, his grip. His mark.

He tilted Jensen's head back, which got him a groan and a slide of tongue over his lips.

He looked at Jensen, saw eyes flutter open, saw how dark they were, dark just for him, and rasped: "Can ya breathe?"

"Get off me."

**The end**

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I should add any tags that I forgot, please let me know!


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